Page 58 of Tricky Puck

But it’s the first time I’m sleeping here and I swear there is something wrong with my head

In the morning, I wake to the smell of coffee brewing and when I throw on some sweats and come out to the kitchen, I see that she’s made coffee. She turns to me and shakes her head.

“You look like you didn’t get much sleep.”

“Thanks. I didn’t sleep at all. Something about that bed reminds me of you.”

I squelch a smile. “If you’re angling for the couch⁠—"

“I’m getting an air mattress today as soon as I wake up.”

She looks sexy standing in my kitchen, leaning on the island for support in an oversized Whalers t-shirt with her hair messy and her face flushed and soft, and her blue eyes half-lidded and dark rimmed and... shit.

“That’s not the only solution to the problem,” I say. “I could⁠—”

“Really? You’re going to try and land us back in your bed together again?”

“I have confidence in our ability to resist those evil feelings you talk about. We’re both mature cynical adults, aren’t we?”

She snort-laughs and almost spills her coffee. I grin, a warm feeling spreading across my chest and I find myself moving closer to her without meaning to, like my body has an attraction that defies free will.

“Come to lunch with me today. I have some time.” God dammit. What possesses me to ask the woman I should be holding at arms-length to have lunch with me? Shit. “You can meet me at the arena, meet some of the guys, and Coach Spence.” That’ll win me points with him. Maybe. At least he’ll know I’m not making her up out of fairy dust.

“Oh… how unexpected. I would, but I already made plans to have lunch with Cherry and Tina.”

I nod, keeping my disappointment to myself. “No problem. That’s good. You should make friends with them. They’re good people.”

“Sure. Right.” She gives me that intense blue look like she’s reading my mind and I look away from her and busy myself grabbing some cookies from the cabinet, then taking a handful of Oreos and flipping one to her as I stuff one in my mouth.

She doesn’t catch it. We both laugh and I figure the awkward moment has passed.

But no.

“I wrote a song for you.” The words trip from her mouth, running into each other. “It’s nothing. I mean it’s about you, about us. About deception and confusion and most of all chemistry.”

Each word she says adds weight to my chest until it’s hard to breathe. Is she trying to kill me? I hate that she wrote a song filled with feelings—and yet, I can’t get rid of my rising excitement, the flicker of satisfaction and warmth that she cares enough⁠—

Fuck it.

“Sing it for me tonight.”

“I will.”

“Promise me.” What am I doing?

“I promise.” Her breathy words send a spiral of pleasure through me and I’m gone far before it reaches my dick. In fact my dick is the last thing in me that registers the excitement—or whatever the hell it is that she’s doing to me.

I’m not staying late after practice today. It’s not that I’m in a rush to get home. Tomorrow morning we need to leave early for our game in Chicago, so no one is staying late. Coach Spence comes into the locker room and walks through checking in with Sabien.

I don’t avoid him, watching him as he talks with Sabe. He’s avoiding me. No eye contact and certainly not stopping to talk with me or tap my shoulder like he does with some of the guys. But in this case, no attention is good news.

I stop at a gift shop to buy some flowers and candy. Then I head to a book store. I have no idea what I’m doing because the only women I’ve ever bought a gift for before in my life are all related to me.

Plus, I have no idea why I’m doing it. Standing in front of a rack of books, I don’t know what to get her and for the first time in too long I realize I’m out of my element. What the hell would she like? And what the hell am I doing?

My phone buzzes and it’s Jason calling me.

“Is that your car I see parked in front of the book shop on Maple Street?”